“I should like you to see that room, Mr. Melikoff,” said Sir Robert. “It is my dear wife’s boudoir. Will you come with me? Wheel me in, Thomson.”
As Thomson obeyed, his master’s keen glance swept over the beautiful room.
“The outer door is open. Close and lock it and give me the key,” he commanded, and, when Thomson had complied, added, “thank you. That will do for the present. I will ring when I need you again.”
Thomson retreated through the Chinese Room, went to the bedroom and mechanically tended the fire, then to his own room, where he sat down and waited.
It was half an hour or more before he was again summoned, and then he found Sir Robert alone. The dragon curtains were still pulled apart, but the folding doors of the boudoir were closed and locked.
Master and man looked steadily at each other for a good half-minute, then Sir Robert said:
“For how long have you been in the habit of spying on me, Thomson?”
“I have never done such a thing before, sir.”
“Humph! I wonder if that is true? It is something at least that you do not attempt to deny that you were spying on me to-night. Why did you do it?”
“Need you ask that, Sir Robert? It was by chance that I discovered that Russian gentleman was coming to see you. I thought it a very dangerous thing for you to see him alone.”